


The Third Rail

by fencer_x



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-02
Updated: 2011-11-02
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencer_x/pseuds/fencer_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirishima makes a startling realization which he doesn't take kindly to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Third Rail

It's a Friday morning, just after 11, when Kirishima realizes he can't kiss Yokozawa anymore.

Suffice to say, this isn't something he's ever really considered he'd have to deal with--the propriety of kissing a coworker, and knowing just when the bar comes down that says _cross this line and you're stepping in dangerous territory_. Really, despite what Yokozawa may think, he doesn't generally make a habit out of slipping smooches to his subordinates or the girls from reception just because he's feeling like it, but to convince the guy otherwise would raise more questions than quash them, and so he lets the guy fill his head with misguided thoughts. It's common practice between them already, after all.

But he knows as clearly as if he'd received a memo on delicate floral-scented stationery from the Emerald offices that if he next tries to collect on a debt with Yokozawa's body--a kiss, a more-than-kiss, _anything_ amounting to a less-than-appropriate method of payment--he'll have brushed the third rail and there will be _discomfort_ and _awkwardness_ that no amount of easy smiles or laughter can shake off. He loves those sorts of reactions from Yokozawa, sure, but he's also a smart enough guy to know when he's gone too far, and it's a dangerous game he plays with the man that, as of now, has just gotten more dangerous.

Because he thinks that maybe, possibly, just a little, he might be falling for the guy.

This was not planned, he wants to be clear. He was just supposed to keep Yokozawa from choking on his own vomit at first, offering a shoulder for him to lean on--physically and emotionally--because the alternative was to let him go wandering into traffic, and Marukawa was better off with an ambulatory, sober Yokozawa Takafumi than a bedridden paralytic spending the rest of his natural life bitching out people with his eyes instead of tearing them a new one with his ample vocal cords.

He hadn't asked (too many) questions, and he'd given short, succinct responses when pressed--and yet in thirty minutes of drunken babblings, he'd learned more about the demon of the sales department than he had in their five or so years working together. And then somehow that had escalated into putting him up for the night in a rather nice business hotel, and from there into blackmail (very unlike Kirishima; he'd be ashamed of himself if it weren't so damn _fun_ ) and now here he was, looking back on their dinner dates and barhopping and thinking _I could get used to this_.

Except now there's this new issue--in that he can't kiss Yokozawa anymore.

In the back of his mind, he wishes he could discuss this with Yokozawa--and half-considers disguising it in an _I've got a friend…_ sort of way and praying he'll have Yokozawa tipsy enough by then that he won't realize. After all--he's bitched about everything from work to…well, work, mostly. He tries not to bring his home life up to often--even when Yokozawa asks--precisely because some time back he started _caring_ that Yokozawa might look at him differently if he knew that growing closer to Kirishima meant growing closer to all the baggage--the adorable, energetic, ten-year-old baggage--that came with him, and well…it was still too soon to tell if those worries were founded or not.

But he can't discuss it with Yokozawa, and this leaves him with all of zero other people intimately involved in his life enough to remotely care, leaving him back at square one and still with the issue of _not being able to kiss Yokozawa anymore_.

Well, he _can_ kiss the guy. His skills haven't rusted, and Yokozawa's still available. It's not a matter of _ability_ , it's a matter of _fuck_ there are emotions involved now and there's only so far teasing can go before it's not teasing, it's flirting, and this is a guy who barely two weeks back was bent over a bar spilling his heart (and the contents of his stomach) to a random coworker because he'd just been dumped, lost the love of his life for good, and wanted to drink and drink until the pain in his chest hurt less than the pain in his head, even for a moment.

Kirishima remembers feeling like that, like it was worth it to get utterly smashed and to lose all concept of right or wrong or up or down or good and bad decisions if it meant just for a little while you could lose the understanding that you'd never have that person there by your side again… Maybe that was why he'd slipped onto the stool next to the guy instead of just calling him a cab and sending him home.

So while Yokozawa may be able to brush off the kisses that Kirishima teasingly lays on him, swiftly approaching is the moment when Kirishima himself will no longer be able to do as much, when he'll press their lips together, tugging on that tie to jerk Yokozawa forward and close that distance, and he'll smile into the kiss with more genuine pleasure, take pride in being able to render the guy weak-kneed, want to hold him up and press him against a wall, tell him it's fine to let go. He can hear the lecture now.

"Oi--what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Kissing you; what's it look like?

"Well cut it out--" He'll wipe his lip with the back of one hand, flushing from exertion and embarrassment, not from passion. "--It's fucking annoying. Let me pay you back like a civilized person."

Society, _right_. Because society's always the foremost authority on what's _appropriate_. Kirishima will let him up, regardless, and tighten his tie a bit for good measure before turning on his heel and heading back to his desk. But this time--he'll feel Yokozawa's gaze, questioning, at his back, and that'll be when he's lost. Yokozawa will turn down his offers, calling his bluff or snapping like a cornered animal and baring his fangs because _I've got my own life, I can't get caught up in yours!_

And maybe that will be that; maybe he'll have done his job and set Yokozawa on the straight (well, not so straight; _really_ , who's he kidding?) and narrow to recovery, and life will continue as it had before Kirishima had known what kind of underwear the guy wore.

Or maybe something different will happen.

Best not to try and fix what isn't broken, in that respect, though.

But regardless, he is still stuck in this bind. He cannot kiss Yokozawa anymore without there being Consequences, good or ill, and this is quite unacceptable. Kirishima doesn't let things peter out--he sends them on, onward and upward, in work and in play, and he's not about to let a silly thing like _propriety_ and _mores_ and _fuck I could screw this up royally_ come between himself and the fact that he wants to see Yokozawa blush in new and fascinating, untested ways.

So with Yokozawa there, standing in front of him with a look on his face like the world just came crashing down around him and Kirishima had stopped it with a quirky smile and flick of his wrist, he decides to do something new with his lips, and in lieu of kissing, instead he opens his mouth and suggests, "Come have dinner with me tonight."

It's not an order, it's not laced with any threat or subterfuge or _unless you want Henmi to find a revealing email in the morning_.

Which is why it means so much when Yokozawa purses his lips and grunts out grudgingly, "Fine."


End file.
